"THE EYES OF THE RED FLEET."
While Kenworth, in his cabin, was consoling himself for his smart
"dressing down" from Ned with the reflection that in the event of the
_Seneca_ being badly damaged the lad he so disliked would lose his
berth, Ned, on deck, had forgotten in the business of the moment the
incident of the intercepted wireless.
Herc reported that no serious strain had been found, and that so far
as could be seen the _Seneca_ was resting on the edge of a sand bank.
The tide, it had been ascertained, was rising, in itself a fortunate
circumstance, and within a short time things would be propitious for an
attempt to back the craft off under her own steam.
"I hope to goodness we succeed, old fellow," said Ned fervently,
"although I can't tell you what an unspeakable relief to me it has
been to know that we are not damaged."
"You can rest assured of that. Every plate and rivet from fore-peak to
shaft tunnel has been gone over. Not a drop of water anywhere."
"In that case, provided we can get afloat again without summoning
assistance, we may get by without a reprimand or, even worse, a
recall," declared Ned.
"Oh, that would be terrible!" exclaimed Herc. "But say, Ned, have you
done any thinking about this accident?"
"What a question to ask! Thinking! I've been doing nothing else since
we struck."
"But you know what I mean?"
"Putting two and two together?" asked Ned significantly, with a glance
at the steering-wheel house that had been their place of concealment.
"That's it exactly. Have you been doing that?"
"Hum, yes, but they don't make four--yet."
"But you've come to the conclusion that the accident may not have been
quite so accidental as it appeared?"
"I didn't say so. What I do say, though, is this, that there is one
person on board who was quite willing to take advantage of it, accident
or no accident, to discredit us."
"And that was----?"
"Mr. Midshipman Kenworth. The rascal! caught him in the wireless room
trying to send a message to the _Manhattan_."
Ned went on to relate all that had occurred at that momentous
encounter, being frequently interrupted by Herc's exclamations of
indignation.
"You ought to have Kenworth put in the brig, or at least keep him in
his cabin for the rest of the cruise," blustered Herc.
"How can I do that? I have no proof against the fellow. Suspicion is
one thing, proof quite another."
"Anyone who knows the fellow----"
"That's quite aside from the question. Kenworth has powerful influences
behind him. We don't want to make any more enemies than we have to."
"Oh, pshaw! If I had your powers----"
"If I had the proof, I'd act quick enough, you may be sure. I wouldn't
care if his father was Secretary of the Navy--yes, or President. All
the more reason for getting rid of such a scalawag. But as it is----"
"All ready, sir!"
The chief bos'un's mate made the announcement.
"Very well, Bowles. You may pass the word."
"Now for the tug-of-war," said Ned grimly, as, warning the man at the
wheel to keep his helm hard over, he sent the signal below for the
engines to be started at reverse "slow."
Once more the vibration of her machinery thrilled the hull of the
_Seneca_; but--she did not move.
Undisturbed, so far as anyone could see, Ned shoved the telegraph over
till little by little the pointer stopped at "Full speed astern." He
rang up on the bridge telephone.
"Give her every ounce you've got," he ordered.
The water churned whitely; the pipes of the safety valves roared with
the pressure of the escaping steam from the high-pressure boilers.
The _Seneca_ shook and trembled like a live thing. Then came a sudden
impulse. Ned's eyes began to dance, but he dared not speak.
The next instant he knew that he had not been mistaken. The _Seneca_
was moving.
A cheer burst from the men, who knew that Ned had risen from the
foredeck, and liked and admired him on that account. Nobody attempted
to check it. Below, in his cabin, Kenworth heard the cheer and felt the
slight movement.
"Confound him! So he has managed to get her afloat, after all," he
muttered. "I didn't pile her up quick enough. Well, I'll get another
chance, and this time I won't fall down."
Little by little the bulk of the gunboat began to slide backward off
the shoal.
From the leadsmen posted on the bow, bridge and stern, came every
moment cries announcing deeper and deeper water. Herc silently wrung
Ned's hand. Ned said nothing, but his face showed what he felt.
At last there came a sudden backward lurch and the gunboat was freed
from her sandy prison and floated in deep water once more.
"We'll have no pilot this time," declared Ned, as he himself took the
guidance of the ship, scanning the waters ahead with keen eyes and
directing the helmsman on his course. They reached open water without
accident. And then Ned was at leisure to forward his report of the
accident to the _Manhattan_.
To his relief no comment was made upon it, which he attributed to the
fact that there had been no serious results. But through the air came
an order that caused Ned to thrill with delight. He was commanded to
peruse his sealed orders and follow them out without delay.
The _Manhattan_ was then some miles north of Block Island, well out to
sea with the Red Squadron. Of the Blues, nothing had been heard.
It was for Ned's ship, as the "Eyes of the Red Fleet" to spy out and
report the whereabouts of the "enemy."